What happened with the knocker?

This isn't a story about a knocker, but it is a story told to me by the friend who gave me a knocker for a house I bought years ago:

My friend Dave lived in a rural, woodsy area. He lived alone with his trusty dog. He was aware that a neighbor raised fancy-dancy bunnies that sold for an awful lot of money. But, he had no interest--no use in fact for an expensive rabbit, so he thought nothing of it...until one day he arrived home to find one of these horrifyingly expensive rabbits on his front porch and his dog panting with pride at his "catch". The rabbit was dead. Its fur was matted and dirty, full of mud, twigs and leaves. Dave panicked. The price of one of these rabbits was more than a month's rent! What could he do?! So, he bathed the rabbit, blow-dried its hair, combing it out with care, and returned it to its former, neat, appearance. After checking to be sure no one was home he snuck around the side of the house and carefully placed the dead rabbit back into an empty pen and raced home with a sigh of relief.

Some hours went by when he noticed a commotion at the neighbor's house. Two sheriffs' cars and an animal control officer's car were parked in front of the house. A crowd of people were at the pens inspecting the scene of the crime. Fearing the worst, Dave leashed his dog and nonchalantly set off as if for a walk. Although he was quaking in his boots, he sidled up to the neighbor's house and inquired about the commotion. His neighbor, clearly shaken, said, "It's the strangest thing I've ever seen! One of the rabbits died and we buried him. When I arrived home there he was, back in his cage looking better than the day he died. I felt I had to report it!"